Look at that face. Adorable, elegant, lovingly demanding. Let us step back to Hime’s first Christmas with the family.
There she is. A delicate little flower.
Brother Odoriki had the kitty snuffles when he was adopted, hence the booger snout. Hime was just naturally perfect. Or so I thought. So, on Christmas Day, Hime demonstrated she had a tender stomach. And a bad case of the runs. Worse, she was intimidated by the litterbox. And shadows, slight motions, a slight breeze. She was a complete coward about everything and still is Queen Jitters. After the 3rd cleanup of a poop spill outside the low box, I was determined that this time, I’d wait patiently and just help her keep her tiny butt in the giant litterbox.
This, of course, did not go well. It’s Christmas morning, I’ve been cleaning all week and the result of my frustrated attempt at kitten corralling was… a tiny white projectile spraying liquid shit across the linoleum, the carpeted downstairs, up the stairs and under the sofa.
I really wanted to cry. My lovely quiet Christmas was a fetid, poop garlanded mess. My housemate came down to see what the hubbub was about and managed to pin Herself. We looked at each other and just burst out laughing. Finally, after capturing the little biological weapon, I called my friend’s dad, who’s a large animal vet as well as the head of an NGO that teaches about zoonosis & husbandry in African countries, and drove her over for a Christmas freebie checkup. We cleaned EVERYTHING, including her butt and put her on very simple food for a day or so. The rest of Christmas was lovely, since she forgave her humans for daring to pen her and get her muddbutt checked out.
Yes, I was still finding little poop spots days later. But I feel very loved. Merry Not Stinky Christmas!